


The Pull of Satisfaction

by Sapphoe



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Child Death, Death, Graphic Description, Mentioned Dream SMP Ensemble, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Self-Reflection, tommy has a crisis while dying f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29958510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphoe/pseuds/Sapphoe
Summary: As he bleeds out and the world fades away, Tommy reflects on his life.Alternative Title: child dies L
Kudos: 1





	The Pull of Satisfaction

The War was won.

The Declaration had been written and signed, and the walls rebuilt. The enemy had been tamed and left without complaint. The foundations of their land stood strong, unwavering, when the dust and unrest finally settled.

There were losses, of course. The discs were gone. Friends made enemies. The sting of betrayal still fresh, and blood soaking and staining the soil.   
But the expanding walls and satisfaction of success promised prosperity for the land. The new creative freedom had infatuated crowds, attracting new faces looking to settle. The once small shelter was now sowing the seeds for what could blossom into a colourful and flourishing country.

This was not the success Tommy had envisioned at the start of the War. Where originally, he had been driven purely by ego and materialism, he had now found family, and with that, empathy.

He had grazed the cold and cruel hand of death, the purity of his ignorance now tainted with his own blood. His pride was now chipped from the maturity that had come with supposed defeat. A scar now ran across his face as a permanent question of his abilities. 

Sitting on the small bench that had somehow survived the wrath of the War, he looked out at the expanse of land, and allowed himself the slightest satisfaction of pride. It was an odd sensation now, after the humiliation of the sacrifices he had made to succeed. It lacked its usual familiarity. What made it stray even further from the norm was its fleeting nature. 

He was unable to bask in the glory as his family did. Unable to soak in the relief and savour the peace that was deserved. The possibility of progress was too great a curiosity to ignore. Humbled he may be, but still, he remained a child. The determination and desperate denial of personal defeat was a fine line, and he struggled to find the balance.

Time passes.

It’s been years, now. Years of teetering towards insanity as his attempts of stability are challenged over and over again. His family abandons him, too absorbed in the thrill of anarchy to acknowledge their negligence. Tommy risks a similar fate as he follows in their footsteps. He’s learned that chaos promises progress, even if the losses outweigh the success. Peace has lost its previous appeal. Without the constant distress of war, everything is lacking. The stale air is devoid of sound. Devoid of action. Though the country grows more colourful, all he sees is a dull and ever expanding grey. 

This what ultimately led to his demise.

The chase for closure has exhausted him to the end of his life. The discs do not provide the relief he expected. He has resisted peace for too long and now must pay the price with looks of distain and reluctance to assist. He lays on a cold floor, though it provides no relief to the unbearably hot room. Lava blocks his last chance of a calm life, a cruel reminder of the stupidity that sprouted from sentiment. 

His rival, his abuser, his death, delivers coordinated blows. His face is one of complete tranquillity and calm, a stark contrast to that of Tommy’s. If there is any internal conflict or humility, it’s hidden behind his mask. Each bone crushing punch practically seeps with satisfaction. Tommy’s face is a bloody pulp by this point. 

Yet still, the splintered chips of bone digging into his flesh isn’t what hurts the most. The pure, raw desperation that will never be relinquished creates an ache in his chest that even in the afterlife, he will never move on from. The cruelty of such an undignified death will go unnoticed, undiscussed, by his loved ones. The bonds have been severed and retied so many times it no longer holds any value. As the last of his memories play out, he realises that it was his own willingness to move forward that has led to his bitter end.

The final blow is delivered.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first ever attempt at fanfiction, and dear Prime it’s dramatic as fuck. I might post more in the future, since this was a lot of fun. Still in school though, but it’s TY so the chance is like 50/50


End file.
